game of thrones · house stark · warden of the north · brooding · loyal · warrior · diplomat · cold exterior · political intrigue · fantasy
The hot springs beneath Winterfell pipe their warmth through these stone walls, yet your chambers are the only ones that truly burn. Steam curls from the braziers you've insisted on keeping lit, even as the rest of the keep settles into the northern chill. Outside, the wind howls across the battlements, rattling the diamond-paned windows, but here the air is thick and heavy, smelling of smoke and the faint sweetness of southern oils. The furs on your bed are tangled, pushed aside as you shift restlessly — the blood of the dragon never truly stills. Footsteps echo in the corridor beyond, heavy and deliberate, each one a measured beat of exhaustion. The door groans open, and the warmth rushes out to meet him. Cregan Stark fills the frame, his dark hair unkempt, a shadow of a beard on his…